1. |
Polyester Polo
01:45
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Hey there baby sweet polyester polo
Club after work, don’t wanna go solo
Tray full of wine and I’m shaking like a sour
Serve the petit bourgeoisie for six bucks an hour
My whole life feels like a barback with a paper cut
Lime, salt, blood mix, stop me when you’ve had enough
Guy says his pint hasn’t got any head
But he’s willing to take the other kind instead
In the cellar swapping out the syrup for the soda
Wishing I wasn’t on the next week’s rota
Smoke break, pee break, any break I’ll take it
Smile for your coin girl, it’s easy to fake it
There’s no way I’ll do what they say when they say
Wash your uniform!
Wash your uniform!
Wash your uniform!
Slicing and burning through the skin on my fingers
Roast beef perfume, yeah I’d say it lingers
Boss is shouting for me to mop the floor,
But my sights are firmly set on the front door
Sure I can fix that table for you darling,
Just need to grab that coaster from your Carling
Apron stains, baked ziti and cheese
Remember when your mom taught you to say please?
Club after work and I don’t wanna go solo
Dancing queen in a ziti-stained polo
There’s no way I’ll do what they say when they say
Wash your uniform!
Wash your uniform!
Wash your uniform!
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2. |
Casual Friday
02:49
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Well you know I don’t know but I have been told
That when Baby Jesus created the world
He took some time off on day seven because
Making dragons and hobbits was tiring
But a lesser known fact is that on the fifth
When Brahma and Buddha made the birds and the fish
They showed up to work in pyjamas and that was
The very first casual Friday
Casual Friday
Our reflections are shining
In the glass of the office doors sliding
Open onto the beautiful world
So take off your necktie and put on your Uggs
Find your tearaway track pants, fill the pockets with drugs
Wear your sunglasses all morning because
You don’t have to make any eye contact
When you arrive at the office high five everyone
Play Jimmy Buffet through the intercom
Today you can all do whatever you want
It’s written right there in your contract
Casual Friday
Our reflections are shining
In the glass of the office doors sliding
Open onto the beautiful world
Wear novelty socks, an inappropriate dress
Drink cocktails at lunch, leave the break room a mess
There’s no boots to lick, there’s no one to impress
There’s no fear of reviews or dismissals
And there’s no need for Human Resources no more
We tip wastebaskets and casually pour gas on the floor
Light a casual match as we walk out the door
And we all play our flutes and our whistles
I went to the oracle, I had an appointment
She told me the future is made for enjoyment
As long as we take a casual approach to employment
Every day can be casual Friday
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3. |
Save Me
03:49
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When I get home from work, there’s so much I wanna do.
I wanna see you smiling, and I wanna be smiling too.
Shall we get some drinks and sit out in the park.
We could talk about anything go home when it gets dark.
When it gets dark.
When I get home from work, there so much I wanna say.
I had a “no thank you” afternoon, why don’t you tell me about your day.
I’ll get dinner on the stove and put the laundry on.
Flip the record over, cause you know I love that song.
I love that song.
Walk through the door, throw my keys into the bowl.
Sit down, put my feet up, and reach for remote control.
Nothing ever comes easy, nothing ever on the TV.
When I get home from work, you’re the only thing that can save me.
Save me.
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4. |
That Job
02:35
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Seventeen, working at the Silver Screen
Hair dye, sentimental horror queen
New release VHS, popcorn is free
You’ve got late fees on American Pie
You’ve got a new crush on the moody Tarantino guy
Just one request: please be kind and rewind
Nobody does that job anymore
Nobody does that job anymore
My dad was local news reporter
Doing interviews on a little tape recorder
We’d drive rolls of film all the way in to town
Pictures of people doing work
Farmers, politicians and the courthouse clerks
The news is just the things that people do in a day
Nobody does that job anymore
Nobody does that job anymore
Milk man, toll booth operator
File clerk, town crier and lamplighter
Transcriptionist, travel agent,
Door to door salesman
Elevator operator, knocker upper
Photo lab tech, printer and typesetter
A&R man, radio DJ and bank teller
Nobody does that job anymore
Nobody does that job anymore
Nobody does that job anymore
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5. |
Yes Chef
03:31
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Alone in the basement, I’m prepping the pastry
Stuffing apples and onions into pork in a daze
The little boom box playing Black Sabbath on an old cassette
Working for a thick-necked man by the name of Yes Chef
I’d rather be drinking in a hammock than scraping out the ramekins
The whole kitchen is stressed out and panicking
Taking orders from an adult human being wearing camouflage Crocs
Just wanna take off my beard net and let down all my dreadlocks
Yes, chef,
You heard me correct
When I say ‘yes chef’ what I really mean is
I haven’t finished the rest of the prep yet
No chef
I don’t believe in time theft
And my only regret
Is ever saying yes chef
Out of the frying pan, and into the fire
Is 21 and a half too young to retire?
No, I don’t want to cover for Jeremy in the dish pit
Now I’m squirting soap on the walls spelling out chef I quit
At the end of the rush, it’s smoke break, sitting on buckets
I can’t feel the burn on my arm when I touch it
Carol says it’s been cauterised, but it might be infected
She’s studying nursing at night, so I listen to her opinion and respect it
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6. |
Working Hardly
03:13
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Are you dressed for success?
There’s no time for flirtin’.
I might look like a mess,
I’ve been hardly workin’.
The sun left in the west,
and I stayed for dessertin’.
I guess I must confess,
I’ve been hardly workin’.
I’ve been working hardly,
arrived real tardy.
Just came in from a real sweet party.
I’m under slept, over paid,
my maximum work for your minimum wage.
Killing some time in beautiful way,
towing the line in until the coffee break,
are you watching the clock, punching your card,
are you working hardly,
or working?
Are you dressed for success?
while the workday is lurkin’.
I should take a deep breath,
before I start to shirking.
Oh, it’s such a big mess,
and my back is a hurtin’
I guess I must digress,
I’ve been hardly working.
I’ve been working hardly,
arrived real tardy.
Just came in from a real sweet party.
I’m under slept, over paid,
my maximum work for your minimum wage.
Killing some time in beautiful way,
towing the line in until the coffee break,
are you watching the clock, punching your card,
are you working hardly,
or working?
Are you dressed for success?
There’s no time for flirtin’.
Oh, it’s such a big mess.
I’ve been hardly workin’.
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The Burning Hell
The Burning Hell is the ongoing musical project of songwriter Mathias Kom and multi-instrumentalists Ariel Sharratt and Jake
Nicoll, often including additional comrades and collaborators.
Their densely populated genre-shifting songs are packed with an abundance of literary, historical, cultural, and pop-cultural forebears, heroes and villains, subjects and objects, stories and hooks.
... more
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